When You're A Jet
by Tirya King
Summary: [WIP] G1. Two eventless weeks can be dangerous when it comes to six claustrophobic jets. As they embark on a fruitless distraction to cure their cabin fever, they learn that jets must stick together through the good, the bad, and the downright bizarre.
1. Cabin Fever

Title: When You're a Jet

Author: Tirya King

Category: Humor/General

Rating: PG-13 for language

Feedback: Of course!

Archive: Just tell me where it's going!

Timeframe: Before the movie sometime.

Summary: G1. When you're a jet, let them do what they can. You've got brothers around, you're a family man.

Disclaimer: Screamer is red. Cracker is blue. I don't own Transformers so please don't sue! The song 'When You're A Jet' belongs to Bernstein.

A/N: The idea came from my love of all things jet-like and listening to the West Side Story soundtrack one time too many. And it hit me like a shovel in the face. Ouch! As is quite obvious, this little doozy is about the Decepticon jets doing what they do best.

When You're A Jet

Part One: Cabin Fever

Two weeks of peace and quiet was nearly unheard of when it came to the residents of the Nemesis. Two weeks with now new plan that was 'sure to succeed.' Two weeks with no raid on local human energy resources. Two weeks with no battles involving the Autobots that resulted in very painful recoveries. Two weeks of endless downtime for everyone to relax and recuperate from the stress of war.

Skywarp was in absolute Hell.

The fearless leader had to be up to something big this time. It had to be huge, since he never kept his troops off the field for so long. The purple and black jet could only hope that Megatron would set this plan into action soon. Being unable to strain his engines beyond routine perimeter runs was making him rather stir-crazy. Living under a few hundred feet of water during all this didn't help any. And his only comfort was the knowledge that he wasn't alone in his misery. It helped, despite the sadism in it, that his fellow jets were just as ready to bash their heads against the wall as he.

Rumor had it Dirge was even contemplating painting a target sign on his skidplate and walking right up to the Ark in the hopes of breaking the monotony. But as of now he still clung to whatever shred of sanity that remained and did not act on that urge. A pity, really, because until the gloomy jet did scramble his processor, Skywarp had little source for amusement. One could only teleport the cassettes a mile over the ocean and let go so many times before it lost the tingle of excitement.

Sure, he could always harass some of the other Decepticons not on assignment. But he didn't really socialize with them much and stood a good chance of getting himself in trouble due to his hasty mouth. It wasn't as though the young Seeker didn't get along with his Decepticon comrades. But the jets tended to stick to their own more often than not.

Besides, those who weren't jets were able to relax much more easily than their flying counterparts. And he didn't think they would appreciate him disrupting their rare time off-duty. So that left him with little option.

Annoy the jets instead.

With that noble intention in mind, Skywarp stood from his cot and exited his quarters. A quick check confirmed that none of the other five were in their rooms. He hoped they hadn't all found something to do without him. Chances were that if plans were made by the others, he would have been automatically included. They rarely did something without their fellow jets. Especially when it came to he and his two brothers.

Alright, he had to concede, so the three of them weren't really brothers. Not in the sense that those miserable Autobot twins were. But they may as well be. Skywarp, Thundercracker, and Starscream all met during their time at the Decepticon Military Academy. Three young flyers who couldn't be less alike at first. Thundercracker the calm, quiet bookworm with a mind for battle strategy and methods. Starscream the brilliant scientist whose great skill was outmatched only by his ego. And he, Skywarp, the angry little street urchin with nowhere else to go. All somehow hurt by the Autobots and all vowing revenge. Their common bond was their pain and their incredible flying skills.

High Command had slapped them together early on in the hopes of creating a good team that could use its separate talents to maximum effect. At first the results were far from stellar. They were too different, too used to relying on themselves. But as they continued to work together, the trio became fast friends who learned to compliment each other perfectly. They were the Seekers, the stars of the Academy's flyers. They worked as a set and that's how they came to Megatron when he put his unit together. A working set was difficult to find, and Skywarp knew the young ambitious Commander was grateful to acquire this one.

Skywarp trudged through the corridors of the seabed catacombs. They were built to expand the Decepticon base of operations to make up for the severely damaged Nemesis. The dim lighting in the connecting halls was emphasized by the inky waters seen through the windows.

The young F-15 swore to himself to teleport whoever had the idea to put in windows to the top of Mt. St. Hillary. Not only was there no view to admire, but it served to emphasize the fact that he could hardly be _further_ from the open sky. And that thought bothered him like a bad itch. Frightened him even.

What could the other Decepticons know of this fear? To them it was a stupid quirk the jets had that would one day get someone killed. To Skywarp and others like him, it was the most inexplicable feeling of dread. Like a recharge dream where one's legs malfunction as a heavily armed Autobot runs you down. Sure, all Decepticons had engines installed in their legs so they could fly. But they weren't _flyers_. It wasn't their life. They didn't understand that if you clipped a flyer's wings, you chained down his very spirit.

Shaking these unsettling thoughts from his processor, Skywarp finally made it into the lounge hoping to run into someone. Anyone who could help him occupy his time so he wouldn't join Dirge in his trip to the Ark with a painted backside. A trip that looked more inviting by the cycle.

A good number of the off-duty crew was there. The Stunticon brothers had control of the TV and its nearby couches. True, very few Decepticons had much love for this strange organic planet and even less for its inhabitants. But fewer still could deny the addictive entertainment that was human television. The cassettes and Constructicons had even gone so far as to join forces to create a way to get the best reception possible. Even Megatron had been known to sneak in an HBO flick in-between reports and recharge.

Today though, Thundercracker, the only jet present, was not to be found enraptured by the adventures of Mulder and Scully or their search for the Truth. He was tucked into one of the corner chairs, feet propped up on the vacant table. He never did finish a good novel he had started, so now he was using the free time to catch up on it.

"Hey, Cracker," greeted the other Seeker. The blue and white jet looked up from his datapad to see Skywarp approaching.

"Skywarp," he nodded in greeting. "What brings you here to the land of the living? Last I heard from Thrust, you were pacing a hole into your floor."

"I'm going nuts, man," his brother-at-arms shivered, eyeing the oppressive ceiling warily. And if the problem were not so real, Thundercracker may have used that line to make a cheap shot. As such, the jittery Seeker did not need to elaborate on what was bothering him, for the other jet was feeling the same way, even if he didn't look like it. In fact, Thundercracker was looking quite serene in contrast to his claustrophobic brother. A fact that did not go unnoticed. "How do you do it?" the purple and black jet demanded. "How can you just sit there like that when the rest of us jets are ready to throw ourselves to the Autobots!"

"We are rarely given this much time off." Thundercracker smirked, "have you tried relaxing?"

"Yup," Skywarp straddled a nearby chair and sighed miserably. "Tried and failed. I don't know, Cracker, I just feel more comfortable tense. Y'know?"

Thundercracker sighed, subspacing his novel. It looked like he wouldn't be finishing it after all. Not when he needed to devote this time calming down his more volatile partner. Skywarp was so worked up right now, he was nearly vibrating, and that never bode well. If he didn't do something soon, then it looked like Dirge would have a new associate on his 'mission,' and he doubted the two would be going alone. Despite his calm exterior, Thundercracker felt the weight of the sea as badly as the others.

"I believe I do," he agreed. "You need some action. We all do."

"Yeah. We weren't built for sitting still," Skywarp eyed the ceiling again as though waiting for it to come crashing down on him. Then his cherry optics lit up in a mischievous sparkle as he turned to his brother. "Let's do something."

This phrase usually led on to…

"Where are the others?"

And now the blue and white jet was certain that the events to come would not only involve local squishy law enforcement which was a real pain in the aft, but possibly the wrath of their superiors. And it was all but assured that what would come next they would later look back on, chuckle nervously, and then change the subject. The Seekers could always count on their mischievous brother to stir things up when it was most needed.

It was for this need that Thundercracker didn't entirely regret telling Skywarp what he wanted to know. "Thrust is trying to talk Dirge out of following through on his threat. Ramjet is busy destroying every practice droid in the training bay, and Starscream is in the lab."

"The lab?" Skywarp's crimson optics widened in surprise. "Why there?"

"It relaxes him," his friend replied gently. "You know how upset he gets when he can't fly for a while."

"Yeah, he's worse than me 'n Dirge," Skywarp nodded sagely. Starscream was nearly impossible to live with when he was unable to fly for long.

"Well, he decided to put his frustration to good use and headed for the lab a few megacycles ago."

The teleporter snorted. "Damn nutjob. How playing with chemicals relaxes that son of a retro-rat, I'll never know."

Thundercracker chuckled good-naturedly. "Yes, it seems you can take the scientist out of the laboratory, but…" he trailed off with humor.

"Well, it's our duty to spring the dear canary from his peroxide prison. Shall we?"

The other jet stood up, nodding. "We shall." If he had to suffer his brother's insanity then by Primus so did Starscream!

**End Part One**

**A/N**: I'm having way too much fun with this story just to warn you! I must admit to being a lover of the Decepticon Seekers, and I hope you have half the fun that I am having. Stay tuned for the second part soon.

**Trivia Time**: Just for fun, I like to quiz my readers. Today's is rather easy I think:

Who is Pearl Forrester and what does she have to do with Mike Nelson?


	2. He Blinded Me With Science

A/N: Here is part two. It remains one of my favorite stories (at least as far as writing goes), but it may be a while before third part is up.

Part Two: He Blinded Me With Science

Fortunately for the pair, the lab was located closer to the command deck near the surface. While anything but optimal, it did ease the tension in the jets' joints to see actual blue color out the windows rather than dark depressing overpowering black.

True to Thundercracker's word, the red and white Seeker was found hunched over a beaker filled with some dark violet liquid of dubious origins. Starscream himself was totally non-responsive to the world around him, so enraptured with his project was he.

Thundercracker had to smile at his brother. He looked to be in such bliss. So at peace. So… not Starscream. And the quiet Seeker had to wonder if this wasn't the true Starscream he was seeing. The one that existed back when he was only a scientist and not a warrior at all.

He had always had doubts about whether the Second in Command ever really wanted to be Commander. It wasn't that he wasn't a good leader. Quite the opposite in fact. He was the Decepticon Air Commander and led in Megatron's absence, even though he was more trouble than he was worth at times. Were he not so brilliant at what he did, Thundercracker suspected he would have been kicked out or deactivated long ago. But what the scientist-turned-fighter seemed to want was the attention that came with leading or the attempts for the job. Some acknowledgement that he was worth fussing over, be it positive or negative.

Had Starscream wanted to be a higher ranking Commander, he would be so now. Most couldn't see the mech behind the egotistical warrior. But the jets did. And as Thundercracker watched his brother work, he knew that if given the honest choice, Starscream would choose a test tube over a Command post any day.

However, like all good things in life, the Second in Command's peace was not to last. For when one brought Skywarp into a room with breakables, all kinds of merry hell tended to break loose. He thought he heard some humans mention people like him as a walking Murphy's Law… whoever this Murphy slagger was.

"Hey, Screamer!" chirped the teleporter as they made their way to his side. "What's the good word?"

Starscream's head shot up in surprise, having clearly not sensed the others entering. From the icy glare Skywarp received as a greeting, Thundercracker was sure that the unexpected interruption was far from welcomed. Then the glare turned to wide-opticed alarm as Skywarp's right hand reached over to poke… well… a weird something next to him.

"No, Skywarp, don't!" the scientist tried to lunge for the jar.

But it was too late and the jar smashed to the ground, spewing its putrid contents everywhere. The end result, while murder to the olfactory sensors, produced a visual effect not unlike a Picasso… if Picasso liked to paint with grayish-green chucky fluids. Thundercracker found the result to be quite unique among his brother's capers.

Starscream begged to differ.

"You slagging moron!" the Seeker railed like a grief-stricken maternal unit. "Do you have any idea what you just did?"

Ever the brains of the trio, the teleporter pondered the sludge, poking it with his foot slightly. "Um…" he ventured. "Cleaned off the counter?"

"_That_," snarled the livid scientist, "was the control for my latest experiment!"

"You're experimenting with fleshling discharge?" Skywarp asked, looking like he knew it was already too late to save Starscream's sanity, and that it couldn't hurt to humor the dear deluded bot.

"It was the fuel for my new amino-acid based, nuclear fused, solar-powered 26-JX9 roto-cylinder, plasma power generator." His optics shut down for a moment, unable to look at it any longer. Then they blazed to life again like the fiery pits of the Inferno. "And you are squishing it into the floor with your goddamn foot!"

Skywarp blinked and lifted his offending appendage, making a sloppy, squishy noise in the process. "Oh," he said, then paused for a moment. "Was it important?"

"It was only a new method of creating energon, thus saving the existence of our planet and race!" Thundercracker would swear the Seeker was practically vibrating where he stood. One would think Skywarp had suggested he join the Autobots, or something to that effect.

"Oh please, Screamer," the young jet scoffed, not intimidated in the least as he was well used to displays of fury from his brother. "Like that vat of goo would produce anything besides a good stink. We need something to do. Something fun…" he moved to inspect another jar, tracking the putrid greenish-gray plasma-whatever around with him.

"KMnO4 is not a toy!" Starscream quickly grabbed it before his comrade could destroy it as well. Thundercracker wisely resisted the growing urge to laugh good and long at the sight of the exasperated scientist and the curious street urchin. Some things never seemed to change with time, did they?

"Why? What does it do?" Skywarp asked. Starscream frowned, cradling it like one might a newly-sparked mech.

"I should let you drink it and then we could all find out together," the red jet hissed.

Oh sweet Vector Sigma, Thundercracker sighed. Don't _tempt_ him to ingest the damn stuff! He would do it in a nanoclick if only to see what would happen. True to form, the black jet cocked his head to the side in intrigue.

"What is it like?"

The ugly look that Starscream gave him definitely got the point across that he thought his brother was as crazy as Dirge was now. Like he'd drink one of his chemicals to find out. Not everyone was a teleporting black and purple jet with a processing malfunction. "I imagine," he answered in the calm voice of a viper, "that it's rather like drinking 5 cubes of high-grade energon." At his brother's excited look he added, "without the fun."

The three of them winced at the thought. That sounded less than pleasant for the one downfall of drinking 5 cubes of high-grade energon was the galactic hangover that resulted. The last time Starscream had had such an energon overcharge, he had begged Thundercracker to kill him for the entirety of the following day. Whatever Skywarp found enticing about drinking the KM-whatever was gone, leaving him to once again find something to do. Seeing his brother's optics begin wandering again, Thundercracker tried for some quick intervention.

"Starscream," he inquired. "Skywarp and I agree that we need to get out of the Nemesis and do something. Anything to stretch our wings… proverbially of course."

Starscream pondered this, looking rather tempted at the thought. He opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by his third wingmate's eager shout.

"I know what we need," Skywarp interrupted. "One of those water balloon fights! But let's use this… ah… what is this?" he pointed to a beaker.

Starscream sighed, shaking his head like an exasperated Creator to its protoform who was too stupid to know any better. "Sulfuric Acid?"

"Yeah! Let's use this Sulfuric Acid just to make things more interesting."

Sharing a flat look with his superior, Thundercracker had to chuckle. Never a dull moment. Not with their resident teleporter around.

"And anyway," the youngest Seeker continued as he went on with his fun-search around the lab, "your nasty smelling slop won't produce enough energy to fuel Laserbeak."

"It won't?" Starscream humored him for lack of anything better to do. "Says who? You?"

"Yeah says me," Skywarp retorted looking offended at his brother's lack of faith.

"You and what Decepticon University of Science and Technology degree?"

"Me and the Screw the Decepticon University of Science and Technology degree. I'm not all good looks and charm, you know," he grinned cheekily.

"You're not?" Starscream asked flatly.

"Nope. I read."

"Thundercracker reads," the red and white jet pointed to the quietly chuckling brother. "You do not read."

"I read!" Skywarp insisted. "And if you weren't such a slag-sucker, you'd realize there's more to life than a Command post and microscope."

"Enlighten me. What else is there?"

"Atole! That has more energy in one cube than 10 hundred cubes of your sludge." Well, if anything, he now his superior's attention.

"What is atole? Where did you hear of such a fuel?" Starscream demanded, seeing a chance for his energy-gathering mission after all. If the Autobots did not yet know of this strange fuel, then this could very well be the turn-around needed to finally win the war.

"A type of human fuel," Skywarp explained, puffing himself up with the pride of the well-informed. "They produce it in the Southern section of this continent. It is said it can produce nearly limitless energy."

"Human fuel?" The 2nd in Command deflated somewhat. "What good do an organic's nutrients do for us? Skywarp, you imbecile!"

"Well I thought that since you were all sciencey you could adapt it for us." Skywarp sniffed disdainfully, giving his elder brother a wounded look. "Obviously I overestimated you."

"I suppose that with a sample of this 'atole' I might find a way to adapt it for Transformer consumption," Starscream mused to himself, thinking of the possibilities.

Thundercracker, having composed himself a few minutes ago, leaned over to query, "perhaps we could turn this into our excuse to get out of the Nemesis for a day?" He tried not to sound too pleading, but he really _really_ needed to get out in the open air the more he thought about it.

"Agreed," his superior nodded. He turned to his little brother who stood muttering angrily to a bottle of Na2Cr2O7. "Skywarp, you win, alright? We leave as soon as we collect the others."

Forgetting his anger toward Starscream, the teleporter perked up happily. "We're having our Sulfuric Acid balloon fight?"

"…No. We begin our quest."

"Quest?"

"Yes, a quest," Starscream grinned gleefully. "A quest for atole!"

**End Part Two**

**A/N**: Alright, now we're starting to roll. For those of you who haven't read my profile, this chapter is taken very much from my own experiences in chemistry lab. Thank God I switched majors! Perceptor in the lab I was not. So yeah, everything from the Sulfuric Acid balloon fight to the quest to find atole is from my freshman year of college. Good times.

**Trivia Time!**

Ok, no one tried for the last one, so the question still stands: Who is Pearl Forrester and what does she have to do with Mike Nelson?

**Review Time!**

LKW: Thanks. I have a soft spot for the jets and I wanted to show them in a more positive and still in character light. Thundercracker was always described as the quiet one, I thought he'd be the calm in the storm that was his team. And poor Dirge… Skywarp isn't done with his antics by any means. I hope I do all six of them justice. Wish me luck!


End file.
